


The Distance Between Here and There is Filled With Us

by crossroadswrite



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Road Trip, Asexual Character, Asexual Vernon Boyd, Established Relationship, Future Fic, Multi, POV Vernon Boyd, Polyamorous relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-24
Updated: 2015-07-24
Packaged: 2018-04-11 00:46:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4414484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crossroadswrite/pseuds/crossroadswrite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They stop against the side of the road because Erica was getting motion sickness in the back when they see it.</p><p>It’s like a mirage in the desert. A dream, something one could only wish to witness in the realm of fantasy.</p><p>“Was that dog wearing sunglasses?” Isaac asks in awe, staring at the passing car.</p><p>“Yes, yes it was.”</p><p>(OR: the one where Boyd, Isaac and Erica road trip their way back to Beacon Hills, full of bickering, illegal car activities and a dog wearing shades.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Distance Between Here and There is Filled With Us

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lichenthropy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lichenthropy/gifts).



> For lichenthropy as part of the polyamorouswolfexchange. I really hope you like this!!
> 
> Betaed by my gorgeous moon and stars [cannibalswelcome](http://cannibalswelcome.tumblr.com/).
> 
> Alternative title: The Distance Between Here and There is Filled With Bathroom Breaks (GODDAMNIT ISAAC).

Boyd hauls the last of Erica’s and Isaac’s suitcases into the back of his Jeep and looks at them critically. They shouldn’t fall off, he’s taken great care into assembling them like Tetris pieces, even if they seem to be defying the laws of physics.

He frankly doesn’t understand how those two need so many suitcases. They’re just going back home for the summer and he’s pretty sure they’ll spent most of their time running in the woods or in their bathing suits.

He’s also pretty sure Erica has an entire suitcase for her lingerie like Isaac has one for his scarves. Both of them absolutely refused leaving any of it behind and it’s in moments like this that Boyd questions his decision of dating those two idiots.

Erica kisses his cheek and sneaks another smaller bag inside, “Ready to go?” she asks excitedly.

“Sure. Where’s Isaac?”

“Peeing.”

Boyd raises an eyebrow.

“Yes, again. I made him go.”

He raises his other eyebrow and quirks his lips, “I know, right,” Erica agrees, “it’s like his bladder can’t handle half a glass of water. I swear if he asks to stop at the first gas station I’ll throw him out of the window.”

“No you won’t.” Isaac comes bounding out of their apartment building cheerfully, the scent of soap clinging to him, “you love me.”

Erica huffs, “Must be because you give good head.”

Isaac pouts exaggeratedly and Boyd rolls his eyes moving to the driver’s seat because he knows how those two are and he’s not particularly interested in sexual fuelled banter followed by kissing. He’s seen it enough.

“You wound me, Erica, you do.”

Erica laughs a little and Boyd hears the distinct sound of lips on lips before the passenger door is opening and Erica is jumping in with a wide smile and her iPod, wiggling it somewhat threateningly.

Boyd raises an eyebrow at her, but wordlessly takes his iPod out of the jack and lets her put hers. He’s a gentleman like that.

“Why does she get shotgun?” Isaac complains, jumping in the back seat and lowering the windows on both sides immediately.

“Because she won rock-paper-scissors,” Boyd tells him, mentally checking if they forgot anything in their apartment before starting the engine.

“She always wins rock-paper-scissors. Why do we still decide things by that?” Isaac pouts a little and slouches.

“No one believes me when I say I’m a little psychic. That’s what you get for doubting my word, and put on your seatbelt, do you want to die?”

“I’m a werewolf.”

Boyd rolls his eyes a little, lets his lips quirk up because they do this every time they get in the car and he’s so incredibly fond and in love with these two morons.

“How about this: put your seatbelt on or no blowies for you.”

Isaac puts on his seatbelt, “You drive a hard bargain,” he smirks, pulling at it until it’s loose enough that he can scoot forward however much he wants.

Erica turns a little and winks, “You know I like making you work for it.”

Boyd slides the car into the early afternoon traffic on their way out of Irvine and interjects before things can escalate. He’s really not in the mood to explain to a cop why there are two people having sex in the back of a moving car. Again.

“What did you put on the playlist this time?” he asks, reaching to press play, “because if you put that-“

 _When I’m Gone_ starts blaring through the speakers and Boyd should’ve expected this. He really should.

Erica and Isaac start loudly belting it out.

“I don’t know why I put up with both of you.”

“You love us,” Isaac counters confidently.

“You wouldn’t replace us for the world.”

“I would trade both of you for a large meal at McDonald’s.”

Erica mock gasps and Isaac laughs. Boyd smirks at both of them and taps his fingers along to the beat unwillingly.

It _is_ a catchy tune, somewhat. But he’s not about to confess to that. Neither is he about to look anything but completely unimpressed with the cheerful pop-y tunes that follow.

«»

Isaac waits exactly five minutes after they’ve passed the first gas station to announce that he needs to pee.

Erica slurps the rest of her water and throws the empty bottle at his head, telling him to make do.

“No peeing in my car,” Boyd grunts, taking a sharp turn and pulling over.

Isaac leans forward and kisses his cheek, “This is why I love you,” he praises before quickly hopping out and going to do his business.

Boyd entertains himself by counting how many people plaster their faces to their windows to openly ogle Isaac’s butt as they pass by.

(Seven, if you were wondering.)

“I made him pee like five times before we left. How is this possible, how can someone have such a tiny bladder, I don’t understand.”

“Isaac pees when he’s nervous,” he states, beating a mindless rhythm against the steering wheel as Erica pouts by his side, kicks her feet up into the console.

“Just like a Chihuahua,” she mutters, makes herself snort with her own joke.

“I’m not a Chihuahua!” Isaac squeaks indignantly, sliding back into the backseat and glaring at her.

Boyd starts the engine back up and smoothly slides into traffic.

“You’re right,” Erica says sweetly, “You’re more like a Cockapoo.”

Isaac huffs at her, “This is why Boyd is my favorite.”

“Lies and slander,” she dismisses.

Isaac rests his chin on Boyd’s seat and huffs a breath, “Why do we put up with her?”

Boyd shrugs, “Forced interaction gave us Stockholm syndrome.”

Isaac snorts an inelegant laugh, whispering, “Ooooh,” in Erica’s general direction.

Erica actually gasps in outrage and punches Boyd in the shoulder. Hard.

“I’m driving.”

“You’re just denigrating my name that’s what,” she says and hits him again.

“If we veer off the road, you’re paying for a new Jeep,” he warns.

“I’m a broke college student.”

“A broke _arts_ college student,” Isaac points out with a toothy smile.

“You’re a dick,” Erica tells him matter-of-factly, sticking his tongue out at him.

“But you love me.”

“It’s one of the many mysteries of life,” she says solemnly and proceeds to turn up the safety dance song and belt it out like it’s going out of style.

Boyd even joins in this time.

«»

“Are we there yet?”

Erica and Boyd share a look through the rearview mirror, a couple of rest stops back Isaac demanded to have his chance at shotgun.

It might’ve been a terrible idea.

“No,” Boyd says flatly.

«»

They stop against the side of the road because Erica was getting motion sickness in the back when they see it.

It’s like a mirage in the desert. A dream, something one could only wish to witness in the realm of fantasy.

“Was that dog wearing sunglasses?” Isaac asks in awe, staring at the passing car.

“Yes, yes it was.”

Erica slaps Boyd on the arm. He’s getting real tired of all this abuse.

“Boyd, quick get in the car! We need to Instagram this moment and share it with the _world_!”

Isaac nods along urgently.

Boyd sighs and complies because his boyfriend and girlfriend are just ridiculous like that.

(They do get a picture of the dog, in case you were wondering. They also add almost two more hours to their journey chasing that godforsaken dog.)

«»

“Are we there yet?”

“No.”

«»

“Are we there yet?”

“Isaac. You know where _there_ is. And this isn’t it.”

Isaac huffs and flops back into his seat.

“Can we stop in the next gas station? I need to pee.”

“Oh for fuck’s-“

«»

Isaac finds a kitten when they do stop at a gas station. He bounds over with it cradled in his arms and a smile on his face that could put the sun to shame.

“Look what I found,” he says proudly, holding the little thing up under their noses.

The kitten swipes at them with a malevolent glare and yowls, clearly displeased.

“No,” Boyd says outright.

“That thing looks possessed.”

Isaac gasps and cradles it close to his face.

“He’s a little angel,” he defends.

The kitten almost takes out his eye with its next swipe.

«»

“I can’t believe you didn’t let me adopt the cat,” Isaac pouts.

“It’s the eleventh cat you tried to adopt. _This week_.”

“Poor little buddy was all alone in a gas station.”

Erica throws him a look, sees the way Isaac is pouting and immediately gives up on any kind of resolve she had.

Boyd half glares at her. Truly you’d think after years of being together they’d build some kind of resistance to the puppy dog pitiful look, but no.

She unclicks her seatbelt and climbs into the back seat, landing neatly on his lap.

“When we have an actual house we’ll get you a cat,” she promises.

“We have a house,” he argues, shoving his nose in the crook of Erica’s neck and rubbing softly.

Erica starts petting his hair.

“When we have a paying job and can actually afford having a cat.”

“ _Fine_ ,” he says petulantly, “but I get to name them.”

“Them?”

“We’re having all the cats.”

Erica sighs.

“Boyd.”

Boyd looks at them through the rearview mirror, locks eyes with Isaac, “No.”

Isaac narrows his eyes in a clear sign that this war isn’t over.

“Come here, I can distract you a little bit,” Erica grins down at him, changes her position so she’s straddling him.

“Don’t have sex on the back seat,” Boyd requests.

“You’re no fun at all,” she complains.

“Yeah, Boyd.”

Boyd rolls his eyes and slows a little bit down. He really doesn’t want to deal with any kind of injuries those two might endure while doing whatever it is they are going to do.

“If you mess the upholstery, you’re paying for the clean-up.”

Erica makes this humming noise and a quick check tells him she’s nuzzling Isaac.

Boyd gives up on everything he stands for and cranks up the volume.

At least this time the police doesn’t tell them to pull up and they don’t get arrested for indecent behavior. The call to Scott had been awkward enough the first time around.

«»

They stop at a little motel two thirds of the way there. They’ll only have a couple more hours in the next day to get to Beacon Hills, and yes technically they could’ve done it in a one day trip, but they had already gotten a late start and Boyd is the only one allowed to drive.

Erica is a terrible driver and Isaac thinks he’s in a drag race every time he’s behind a wheel. There’s just no way any living person will get their hands on his car unless he knows for a fact that they are fully capable of handling it.

As far as motels go, it could be dirtier. There’s only two beds, a desk with a TV on it and a little table pushed against a window with one chair on each side.

One of the chairs is wobbling annoyingly on one leg. The entire thing is weirdly boat themed.

There are little pictures of boats loitering the walls, which are a sea invoking shade of blue and littered with anchors.

It’s all kind of ridiculous.

“Well, this is cozy,” Erica observes, twitching her nose, “Isaac help me with this nightstand. And by help I mean move it out of the way while I go take a shower. I smell like sweat and gas station.”

Boyd sets his duffel on top of a desk that’s pushed against the opposite wall of where the beds are, with a television on top.

Isaac moves the nightstand out of the way and pushes the two beds together.

“Remember that one motel we went where the nightstand was screwed to the floor,” he asks, lifting his eyes up at Boyd.

“Erica spent the entire night bed hopping,” he nods with a fond little tilt of his lips.

“Neither of us could sleep.”

Isaac strides forward and drapes himself all over Boyd with a little contented sigh. He nuzzles his cheek.

“I’m tired,” he complains.

Boyd sweeps him off his feet and dutifully carries him to the bed. Like he had stated previously: he’s a gentleman like that.

“Do you think Erica will take long.”

“We’ll be lucky if she doesn’t make the hot water run out.”

“Too hot for a hot shower,” Isaac complains and Boyd dumps him on the bed, sitting himself up by the head of it.

Isaac wiggles up until his head is in Boyd’s lap. He grabs his hand and sets it on his hair wordlessly demanding pets.

Boyd tangles his fingers in his curls, running the pads of his thumbs across his scalp.

“Don’t let me fall asleep, ‘kay?” Isaac mumbles, tiredly.

Boyd snorts because he knows how this goes. They’ve made the trip from their college back to Beacon Hills enough times that they’ve almost developed a routine.

Erica will take a shower. Isaac will fall asleep until it’s time for dinner and Boyd will already be showered by then.

Isaac will stuff his face and then take a shower. Depending on how tired he is he either sees if Erica is up for sex or lays on top of both of them like a lazy demanding cat and steals their full attention, in which case the three of them will just stay up and talk until they slowly start drifting off and fall asleep like that, on a messy pile, limbs intertwined with each other’s.

They have it down to a science almost.

Isaac starts nuzzling the bedspread even though there is no way that can be hygienic and how his nose isn’t screaming at him, because Boyd’s sure that bed is littered with not-so-pleasant scents, will forever be a mystery.

Boyd reaches for the remote, turning the TV on and flipping channels until he finds a cooking show. There’s nothing as relaxing as watching Gordon Ramsey yelling at people for fucking up.

“I think I’m taking a nap,” Isaac yawns hugely, squirming until his head finds a more comfortable position, pillowed on Boyd’s lap before he forcefully grabs his hand and puts in his hair, silently demanding head scritches.

Boyd obliges.

“What do you want for dinner.”

“I’m feeling pizza.”

Erica opens the door of the bathroom, one towel wrapped around herself and another holding her hair up.

“I don’t want pizza. It’s too hot for pizza. I want a salad, or some sandwiches.”

Isaac peers up at her, “First you don’t let me keep the kitty, now you’re taking away my pizza. What else are you going to take away from me? My dignity?”

“Aw, hon,” Erica crooks a smile at him, “you never had that to begin with.”

She saunters by dropping a kiss on his forehead and Isaac uses it to his advantage to grab at her and wrestle her down on the bed. Erica squeaks indignantly and Boyd slides down to the floor, upping the volume on the TV.

“Isaac no, you’re gross.”

“ _You’re gross!_ ”

“Don’t lick me, I just showere- ewwwww.”

Boyd cranes his neck just in time to see Erica kicking him out of the bed and Isaac falling over himself giggling on his way down.

Erica stands with a huff, her hair towel got lost somewhere along the way and she has to re-tuck the one wrapped around her body.

“I _just_ showered,” she huffs, adjusting her boobs, “and now I smell like motel bed.”

“You would smell like motel bed anyway,” Isaac pokes his head over the edge of the bed and crosses his arms over the bedspread, leaning on them.

Erica growls a little and bounces down into a sitting position.

“Nice view,” Isaac grins, tilting his head.

Erica wiggles her eyebrows at him, “Gonna do something about it.”

Boyd sighs and turns his show off, “I’m taking a shower. Don’t get cum on the bed.”

Isaac wiggles his butt like a cat and then actually pounces on the bed.

Boyd opens the bathroom door and wonders if he goes to the front desk and growls they’ll give him new sheets.

«»

“You are a disgrace to this nation,” he tells them flatly, throwing on a wife beater and some cargo shorts so he can go outside and not witness the _things_ happening in his bed.

He squints at them and tilts his head, “If you throw out your back doing _that_ I’m not carrying you around,” he tells them wisely, grabbing his keys and wallet and heading out the door. He’ll get them some dinner and hopes that’ll be enough time for them to finish.

Boyd glances at the front desk, wondering about the sheets.

«»

He finds a little pizzeria that’s been clearly passed down through generations where the girl behind the counter plasters a smile on her face with such ease that Boyd almost believes it’s real.

The girl takes his order and then tells him to wait twenty to thirty minutes, pointing him across the street, where a tourist trap store stands, selling knick knacks and whatever is this town’s thing. Every town has a thing.

Beacon Hills thing just happened to be rampant supernatural creatures and poorly selected teachers.

Boyd makes the executive decision to just say fuck it and walks over to the store, looking around at the plethora of crap it displays.

The man behind the counter has a striking resemblance to the girl at the pizzeria and he figures they take family business seriously here.

He peruses around and decides that Erica needs a cowboy hat, whatever the hell that’s doing here, and Isaac needs a kid’s leash. He then buys a cook book for himself because he had the work of walking all the way here to get their food so he should treat himself.

Also he’s pretty sure Scott’s new kitchen is big enough for him to actually try cooking real meals and not just stick something in the microwave and hope it doesn’t short circuit and explode.

«»

He opens the door to the chemical smell of Erica and Isaac’s shampoo and body wash swirling around the scent of what Boyd has taken to identifying as _sin_ and their ingrained scents. The things that make up Isaac (freshly ironed clothes, warmth, fresh grass and honey) and Erica (apples and pineapples and slightly damp wood and white wine) and Isaac _and_ Erica (mostly sex, if he’s being honest).

He notes they’re remaking the bed. With new sheets, that seem cleaner than the previous.

“Isaac charmed the lady at the desk,” Erica shrugs, shaking out the comforter and flopping on top of it happily.

Isaac makes a beeline for him, lifting the pizza boxes from his hands and kissing him quick and sweet on the cheek, stretching to peer inside the bag Boyd’s also carrying with him.

“Did you get us presents?” he coos, balancing the pizzas on one hand and trying to reach it for you.

Boyd puts a hand on his face and pushes him away, “Go eat your pizza.”

“If there’s asparagus in here I’m gonna take this out back and shooting it,” Erica threatens.

“Asparagus are good for you.”

Erica growls, “You wouldn’t dare.”

He blinks impassively at her.

Isaac sets the boxes on the bed and flips the lids.

“You’re evil,” Erica tells him, avoiding the asparagus covered pizza, “Pure evil.”

Boyd takes a slice and bites it into, chewing slow and purposeful at her.

“Your ways of life are wrong. This is heresy,” she twists her nose.

“No one is making you eat it,” Isaac points out, carefully rolling his pizza up and shoving it in his mouth.

“I can _smell it_. It’ll be on your breaths for the next week. You better have brought us something _good_.”

Boyd reaches in the bag and takes out the Kama Sutra throwing it at her before plopping down the cowboy hat on her head.

Erica turns the book in her hands and almost falls off the bed giggling, “Yes,” she cheers, dragging out the s in victory, “perfect! You know me so well.”

“Oh, oh do me next!” Isaac begs, dropping his second slice and making grabby hands at him.

Boyd throws a kid leash at him.

“I _hate you_ ,” he pouts, twisting it around in his fingers.

Erica _does_ fall off the bed this time, which mustn’t be very hygienic. The floor looks kind of disgusting.

Boyd takes the deck of cards with puppies as the different suits and throws them at his head.

Isaac catches them easily and coos, quickly unwrapping and opening it up. He shuffles the cards with precision and grace, using a sleight of hand to shove one under his sleeve and then reshuffling.

“Thanks. I’m using this to scheme the pack out of their money,” he says gleefully.

“I’ll bake you a cake if you beat Lydia,” he promises.

“Promise?” Isaac asks, wide eyed at the prospect of cake. He holds up his pinky and Boyd indulges, linking his with Isaac’s.

“Promise.”

Erica coos from the floor.

Isaac throws a pillow at her face.

«»

“It’s too hot for this,” Erica complains, slowly rubbing her cheek over Boyd’s bicep, “is the air conditioning on?”

Isaac groans loudly and scoots back a little.

“Yeah.”

“Californian weather was _not_ made for cuddling,” she twists her nose, Boyd can feel it against his skin.

He breathes out loudly, blinking lazily up at the ceiling. He’s tired and he knows that they’ll still have a couple of hours before they reach Beacon Hills tomorrow. More if they have to make any other unexpected detours.

Isaac groans again, forehead pressed against Boyd’s ribs.

Boyd gives up and makes the executive decision to kick the blanket off them.

Isaac sighs and wiggles out of his sleeping pants. Boyd’s not sure why he bothered with them in the first place.

Cuddling with three people is almost a science, but they’ve perfected the formula years back. And by perfected the formula Boyd means Isaac had a panic attack while stuck between him and Erica, Erica kicked everyone while in the middle and Boyd was so very done that he’d lay himself between the two, shoved Isaac down and pulled Erica up.

So that’s how they do it now.

Boyd on his back in the middle of the bed with Isaac curled on one side just under his arm, forehead pressed against his ribs, sometimes head _resting_ on his ribs. When it’s cold enough he’ll huddle close and throw a leg over Boyd’s.

Erica sleeps on his order side, head pillowed on Boyd’s bicep since she’s terribly fussy with pillows, one hand loosely curled over his chest and when it’s cold enough she’ll curl on herself her legs trapped between herself and Boyd’s torso.

“We might have to forfeit cuddling,” Isaac says dramatically propping himself up on one elbow.

“ _Never_.”

Boyd sighs and settles in for a sweaty night of fitful sleeping.

«»

“Do you have everything?” he asks for the fifth time.

It’s late morning and they should’ve been on the road a couple of hours earlier, but Isaac wanted to sleep in and Erica wanted to have a look around.

She’s wearing the cowboy hat Boyd gave her and she must’ve found a sharpie somewhere because now it has _RIDE HARD_ written across the front.

“Yes,” Isaac shouts from somewhere inside the bathroom.

Erica’s sitting boredly on top of her bag, slurping iced coffee from a straw.

“Yeah.”

“I’m not turning back if you did,” he warns, shouldering one of his bags and waiting for Isaac to pile his stuff up and strut out of the room with it.

“You’re supposed to put it in the bag,” Erica informs him.

“Bags are for the weak.”

“Your _face_ is for the weak.”

“Says the person that spends a lot of time up and close with it.”

Boyd looks upwards and prays for strength.

«»

They’re almost outside the city when Isaac taps Boyd shyly on the shoulder.

“What did you leave behind?”

“My phone.”

“Of course you did.”

Boyd risks an illegal U-turn and drives back to the motel.

«»

They’re eating terrible, tasteless sandwiches at a gas station, sweating through their t-shirts.

“We should get a turtle,” Isaac says suddenly.

“A turtle?” Erica raises an eyebrow.

Boyd actually thinks about it, “We could do a turtle.”

“Turtles are kind of cute, I guess,” Erica nods.

Isaac beams at them brilliantly, “We’re getting a turtle?”

“Sure, why not.”

“I love you,” he says happily and goes for a hug.

Erica ducks under his arm and Boyd sidesteps him.

“Too hot,” Erica complains, “We’ll hug when I’m sure our skin won’t melt together.”

“Gross.”

“Exactly.”

«»

An hour before they get to Beacon Hills, they call it quits and take their shirts off.

It’s too hot for cloth.

Erica rolls her window down and throws her feet out of it.

Isaac shoves his entire head out of the window and lolls his tongue. That lasts five minutes before he starts whining about bugs.

«»

They’re just at the outskirts of Beacon Hills when they spot a lady, under a big beach umbrella and behind a table with crates of fruit.

“Boyd. Cherries!” Erica enthuses, slapping at his arm.

“We’re not stopping for fruit.”

Erica squints dangerously.

They stop for fruit.

Erica walks away with an entire crate full of cherries and a grin on her face.

She pushes her seat flat and puts the crate between her and Isaac, spitting the seeds out of the window.

She’s kind enough to feed some to Boyd.

«»

They get pulled over by the cops three minutes after they pass the city lines.

Erica says it’s because Boyd was speeding, Boyd tells her it’s because she’s sitting backwards in her seat so she can share cherries with Isaac.

Parrish gets out of his car and calmly walks towards them with a smile like he just ate a bowl of sunshine and puppies for breakfast.

“Welcome back,” he greets, “were you aware that you were speeding?”

Erica smacks him in the shoulder, “I _told you so_.”

“I’m sorry officer,” Isaac says earnestly, shoving himself almost out of the driver’s seat’ window, “we were just excited to get back.”

“Be more careful next time,” he warns, “and for god’s sake Erica that is not the intended use of the passenger seat.”

Erica huffs but shifts around until she’s sitting like a normal person.

“See you guys later at pack meeting.”

“See you. Bring _beer_.”

“Don’t bring beer it tastes like shit.”

“Shut up, Lahey.”

“You shut up Reyes.”

Parrish gets in his car and Boyd drives off, cranking up the radio which turns out to be a great idea since apparently both Isaac and Erica _have_ to stop arguing so they can belt out this song.

«»

It’s late afternoon when they park in front of Scott’s, squeezing Boyd’s Jeep between two other cars.

“I wanna shower, I feel disgusting,” Erica complains, jumping out of the car.

“I wonder if Scott will help us pick a turtle,” Isaac muses.

Boyd opens the trunk and hauls their baggage out, handing them out.

The front door slams open and Scott bounds out with a big smile on his face, “Hey guys, you’re the last to arrive.”

“We wouldn’t be if _someone_ ,” he tilts his head towards his partners, “wouldn’t have made me chase a dog.”

“It was _wearing sunglasses_ ,” Erica hisses.

“It was the Jesus of dogs. The _cool_ Jesus of dogs,” Isaac counters.

“Dude,” Scott breathes out in awe, clapping Boyd on the shoulder, “that sounds awesome.”

Boyd wasn’t sure what he expected really.

“Anyways how was your trip?”

“Could’ve been better,” he says noncommittally.

“We’re getting a _turtle_.”

“I got cherries and a cowboy hat, all else is irrelevant.”

Scott continues beaming, “Sounds fun. Come on inside. Lydia made sure your room was ready.”

“She kicked everyone’s ass into getting it done, didn’t she?”

Scott stares into the distance, “She did. It was terrifying.”

“Good,” Erica nods, shouldering her bags and shoving the carry-on into Scott’s hands, “I haven’t seen everyone in _forever_ let’s go inside.”

“We should play poker,” Isaac pipes up immediately.

“We’re not playing with money,” Scott says immediately, following Erica inside.

“Why are you like this,” Isaac pouts.

“Because last time you cleaned everyone out of their food money. New rule, we only play for money when we are no longer broke college students.”

Boyd sighs and locks up his Jeep. He takes a moment before walking in, catching the voices of everyone in the pack inside, taking in the fresh scent of home and pack and safety.

Beacon Hills isn’t their home anymore. Not _really_ , but it’s where their pack is and that will always be home.

Boyd scoots his bag up his shoulder a little better and tries not to think too hard about how hard it’ll be to leave again when summer is over. He readies himself to be tackled down as soon as he steps foot in the door and walks inside.

**Author's Note:**

> come [say hi to me](http://crossroadswrite.tumblr.com) on tumblr or [shower the mods of this exchange with all the praise they deserve here](http://polyamorouswolfexchange.tumblr.com) if you feel so inclined.


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